


Something in the Wind

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: Things heat up when Sam and Al go camping.  Stand-alone story, not part of any series.





	Something in the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally printed in the zine, "Bingo, Bango, Bongo." Inspired by the song "Must've Been Drunk," by Romanovsky and Phillips.

_Must've been drunk, for us to carry on this way You don't talk like Mr. Rogers, I don't look like Doris Day Now maybe it's the wine and weed, that made us act so queer Or maybe homosexuals have bottled up this beer...*_

There we were. The great outdoors. Communing with nature...the flies, the mosquitoes, the ants. Those wonderful sounds of wilderness... children crying, car engines revving, radio's blaring.

Our trip up had been peaceful too, once the auto club finally arrived to revive Sam's dead car. By the time we got to Coyote Creek State Park, it was late afternoon and there wasn't much daylight left. To make matters worse--if they could get any worse, that is--Mr. Wonderful had left the stakes for the tent at home. I told him to use the pins in his head, but I guess he needed those, because he rummaged around in the trunk of the car until he found enough screwdrivers and such to improvise with.

I was sitting on the hood of the car, being very vocal about our problems. "Sam," I said, patiently I thought. "Those things are never gonna hold. The thing's gonna collapse on us."

"No it won't," he answered in a snotty voice. He continued working.

"Just remember who's gonna be putting the tent up again in the middle of the night." Don't get me wrong, I like camping out--once in awhile. But we were in the middle of a hotter than hell heat wave, and I'd lost my good humor somewhere after the third hour of waiting for the auto club. Sam was grimly determined to force a good time on us despite everything. I just wasn't in the mood. Besides, I'd wanted to go to Las Vegas. It was a tradition with us, and I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate his finally leaping home. We had some good times on those trips...

I glanced around at the other campsites. "I don't suppose there's even any single women around here. Looks like strictly family city."

Sam dropped what he was doing and came over to me. With a nasty glint in his eyes, he handed me one of the screwdrivers. His look spoke volumes. He then returned to his task without a word.

"Gee thanks, Sam, but now I need the screw." He refused to comment. I sat there watching him, bored.

When it came to raising the tent, it was awkward for one person alone. Like I said, the heat made me mean. Besides, plenty of times he'd taken his own minor annoyances out on me. I figured it was his turn to put up with a little bitching.

Finally Sam glared at me. "You could give me a hand."

I got up. "They say it might rain tonight. If the tent falls the water'll soak through. We'll drown in our sleep."

"I don't even think that could shut you up!"

"You're probably right," I said amicably. "I remember one time in Vegas, this lovely named Rita and I were taking a shower and--"

Sam abruptly let go of the pole in his hands. "You don't want to be here, you've made that quite plain. Fine. Take the car and go home. Just send someone back to pick me up on Monday." With that he stalked off down the road.

I stared at his retreating back, totally bewildered at the outburst. Maybe I had gone too far... I knew I was being a pain, but I didn't think I was bad enough to set him off that much.

I followed him. He finally stopped by the lake, sitting down on a tree stump.

His back was to me, so I walked around to face him. "Sam?" I called, puzzled.

When he finally looked up at me there was actually a trace of tears in his eyes!

"What's going on?" I asked quietly.

"I just thought...maybe you and I could spend some time together again, just us," he began with embarrassed hesitancy. "It's been so long and...you should have told me you really didn't want to come."

If I could have reached, I would've kicked myself in the butt. God knew I deserved it. "Oh Jeez..."

Sam misinterpreted my response and jumped up, starting down the road again. I was batting a thousand.

I grabbed his arm before he could get away. "Whoa there, buddy!"

"I'm sorry I ruined your fun." He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Aw, Sam, I'm sorry..." He looked at me, trace of hope filtering in. "I didn't mean it like that. You know how I get when it's hot." I risked letting go of his arm, turning around and bending over. "Go ahead, kick. Give it your best shot, I deserve it."

I half expected him to take me up on the offer. When he didn't, I turned to him again. I'd coaxed him out of his mood, he now wore a small smile. I took his arm again even though he wasn't trying to leave, and looked into his eyes. "There's no where on earth I'd rather be right now than with you. Trust me on that one."

Sam's face lit up like a little kid's and he grabbed me in a hug. He did that a lot lately. Not that I was complaining, after six years of being only a hologram, it felt great.

I pulled away first. "Okay, c'mon now, enough of that. This is a family campground."

He punched me playfully on the arm and slung his around my shoulder.

We walked back to our site. It was almost dark by then, so putting up the tent wasn't easy., but the mood surrounding us had changed now, maybe to do with the welcome drop in temperature. Suddenly it wasn't so bad. As a matter of fact, it was a lot of fun. I pulled out the jug of wine and we went to work. I tried to hold the flashlight while also helping him with the tent before we finally came up with the bright idea to use the car's headlights. After that it was a cinch. It would have taken even less time if we weren't laughing so hard. I don't know what the neighbors thought--that is, if they could hear us over the screaming of their kids.

We built a fire and roasted marshmallows. They go good with wine. Then we snuck over to the lake for a swim. We released a lot of pent-up frustrations by trying our best to drown each other, and stayed until we were exhausted.

We dragged ourselves back to the site like drowned rats and warmed up by the fire. What camping trip would be complete without a sing along? Sam puled out his guitar, we sang our favorite songs and drank more wine.

I watched him over the flames while we sang, in a kind of awe. What most people took for granted was like a miracle to me. Something so simple...I was sitting by a fire, drinking wine and singing with my best friend. It was something I'd never tell him, but there had been times when I thought these days were lost forever. While I watched him lend a hand to others in need, being a part of their lives and sharing their moments. My job had consisted mainly of listening to him bitch and complain. It wasn't his fault, he needed to get it all out. Beeks said it was very important he not keep those things bottled inside. All I got was an all too rare moment here or there, usually during a rough time. Even the brief good times were shared with others, for I wasn't really there. Now, I had him all to myself.

"I'm glad we didn't go to Vegas," I told him.

He smiled at me warmly as the song ended. I clapped enthusiastically.

"Thank you, thank you, my many fans! I'd like to dedicate my next number, to my very best friend in the universe."

"Who's that?" I joked happily.

Instead of answering, he began singing. "...Something in the wind has learned my name, and it's telling me that things are gonna change..."

He'd started in the middle, but who cared? I joined in.

"There is only one wish on my mind, when this day is through I hope that I will find, that tomorrow will be just the same for you and me, all I need will be mine if you are here..."

The firelight cast muted shadows around us, made slightly fuzzier by the wine. His hair was still wet, every now and then a stray droplet would trickle down a strand and fall.

I watched him play, fingers moving gracefully over the strings. Shadows danced over his hands, too. I always liked firelight, it made everything look...beautiful.

"...I'm on top of the world looking down on creation, and the only explanation I can find, is the love that I've found ever since you've been around, your love has put me on the top of the world."

When we finished, he set the guitar aside. "We'd better call it a night, before the neighbors get after us with bats."

"They ought to thank us for serenading them," I countered, but rose with him.

We put the fire out and crawled into the tent.

"It's too bad you didn't get one of those three room tents," I commented as I got ready for bed. "You know, the duplex kind, with the Jacuzzi in the back..."

"You really know how to rough it, Al," Sam told me, crawling into his sleeping bag.

"Course I do, I'm with you aren't I?" That earned me another punch. Any excuse. I guess a lot of punches built up over the years. "One thing I don't think I'll ever get used to here. The way it's hot during the day then cold at night."

"Here, this'll keep you warm." Sam passed me the wine bottle.

I gazed at it speculatively. "Well, it's not exactly a warm body, but..." I took a swallow.

Sam pretended to be insulted. "What am I, chopped liver?" he demanded.

I looked at him appraisingly. "Naw, you have too much class for that. You're more like...pate."

Sam giggled. I guessed it was a combination of the wine and the high of homecoming, but he didn't stop and I was soon joining him in the sillies. Besides, he has a cute giggle.

"On no!" I exclaimed, mock horrified. "He's being attacked by a whole fit of giggles!"

"I think that's a gaggle," he managed.

"A gaggle of giggles? Who are you, Dr. Suess?"

He grinned mischievously. "Of course not. I'm Sam, I am!"

"Fight those giggles, Sam I am...fight them!" I pounced on him, tickling. 'Don't let them win!"

Sam made a feeble attempt to fend me off, finally trying to roll out of my grasp. Unfortunately, he rolled too far. The next thing we knew, we were covered in the cheap plastic excuse for canvas that passed for our tent. For a moment there was no sound or movement at all.

Sam broke the quiet with a giggle. "Whoops..."

"Told ya," I reminded him smugly. He said nothing for a minute or so. "Shouldn't we do something about this?" I finally asked.

"If you get offa me, I can go out and fix it," he replied.

"Oh," I responded sheepishly. "Whoops..." I let him up. "Must be that concussion I got when I was hit on the head with the pole."

"Long as you were hit on the head, I'm sure there's no damage."

I crawled out after him to lend a hand. "Toss one here."

He threw me one of the screwdrivers.

I held it up for inspection. It was one of those real long ones, longer than the stakes would have been, I had to admit. But I decided to tease Sam. "Haven't you got anything longer?" I asked.

Sam stopped what he was doing and cocked his head in my direction. "Yeah. But it doesn't detach." He went back to his work.

I stood there, pissed off. Try as I might, I couldn't think of a comeback for him. And I could read his amusement in the lengthening silence.

I got back to work on the tent but I just couldn't let him have the last word. "That's not what I heard," I finally said. "I heard Donna keeps it in a jar by the bed." It wasn't much, but it was all I could come up with.

"Oh, I have it with me," he said mildly.

"Um hum,..." I mumbled, concentrating on making sure I pulled out the rope just enough and not too much.

The next thing I knew his arms went around me from behind. "Want me to prove it to you?" He actually bumped his lower half against mine!

"Sam!" In surprise I stumbled and tripped over the rope. The tent was once again in a heap on the ground.

"We're supposed to be getting it up," Sam said with amusement in his voice.

"You can do it yourself then, wise ass," I grumbled.

He laughed.

I left him to the task, while I began hauling out the bedding so we could make it over. I got half way done when he called me.

"Could you grab the other rope please?"

"I thought you could do it yourself?" I asked, anticipating my revenge.

"I only have two hands."

"It only takes one," I delivered the coupe.

"Al! I think it's starting to rain. If you don't want to sleep in the car with the steering wheel up your ass, you'll get over here."

He was putting his foot down, so I went to help. We had to adjust everything slightly, to get away from the holes we'd made the first time.

Finally, the tent was once again standing.

As we surveyed our work, I stared at the lone screwdriver in my hand. "Sam--I think we forgot something..."

We checked everything over, but couldn't find any place with a missing stake.

"What the hell--" I looked at him, then the screwdriver.

He shrugged. "One of the great mysteries of life."

"I guess this just must be...the stake for that vampire that's loose around here." I held it in position, peering into the bushes as if stalking one. "It's probably around here somewhere. Hey, I hope it's an incubus--or is that a succubus? I always get them confused..." I glanced at Sam, to find him advancing on me. "Oh no!" I backed away.

"Tough luck, Al."

"Sam, you wouldn't..."

"I guess you're stuck with me. See, there was this one leap you weren't there for that I never told you about. I was in Transylvania, and--"

"Don't you dare!" I commanded, dodging around a tree.

We began an impromptu game to tag and he was IT. He was laughing, enjoying the sport, but I felt an unease I couldn't explain. All I knew was, I could not let him capture me.

Sam continued his story while slowly approaching me. "There was this gorgeous lady vampire there, with the biggest--"

"Cut it out!"

"--Fangs you ever saw. That's why I wanted to come out to the woods this weekend. Full moon, I knew there'd be lots of blood around..."

"So go pick on someone else's blood," I suggested, backing further into the path behind our site.

"Ah, but yours has so much more class than the others," he used my earlier words against me. "It's more like fine wine."

"What's it take to stop you?" I asked pleadingly.

He smiled, gesturing to the screwdriver in my hand. "I guess you're just gonna have to..."

"Sam..." I knew he was going to say--

"...poundddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd that stake into me."

"Shit!" I turned to run, but he lunged. Before I knew it, he'd grabbed me. I felt his teeth. The wine must have finally caught up with me, because my head spun. Then the world seemed to stop. It seemed what they said about vampires must be true because I was immobile, frozen in place, my weak knees barely holding me up.

I don't know how long we stood like that. The next thing I was aware of was the rain. Like a cloudburst, it let loose and poured down on us in buckets, propelling us into action. We dashed back to the tent. If we thought it was raining hard under the cover of the trees, in the clearing it was even more torrential.

I dove into the tent behind Sam, cursing. I'd completely forgotten about the sleeping bag and pillow which lay on the ground, already soaking wet. Mine, of course.

Huddled in a ball of shivering misery, I watched Sam slip into his bag.

Once settled, he noticed me. "Where's your sleeping bag?"

I looked toward to door.

"What's it doing out there?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I was in the process of fixing things up in here when you called me to help you," I said reproachfully. "It...slipped my mind after that."

There was a moment of silence. "I could...open up this one and we could put it over us," he suggested quietly.

It wasn't his fault, not exactly. "The ground is cold," I said firmly. "I'll make a dash for the car when it slows down, sack out in there."

This time the silence was longer, but I instinctively clung to it.

"I'm sorry..." Sam finally said in a small voice.

Did I miss something? I stared at him, but his head was down, he was playing with the zipper. His moods were doing these dives on me and I was having trouble keeping up. Beeks had warned me not to expect everything would necessarily be hunky-dory just because he was home. There would be a period of adjustment.

"It wasn't your fault," I told him firmly. "I'm the one who left it out there." When he didn't say anything, I continued, trying not to shiver too noticeably. "It's no big deal to me. I'm still having a great time." I'd already found out how important that was to him. He wanted it to be perfect. Could I blame him? The first outing with his best friend in six years and it seemed destined for disaster. I racked my brain to come up with some joke or something to lighten his mood. It seemed I wasn't my usual swift self today.

"There's enough room in here...we could share," Sam said shyly.

Something nagging at the back of my head told me to sleep in the car. But to do that meant leaving him here thinking the weekend was ruined. I sat there in indecision.

"I don't bite," he assured with a tiny smile.

"That's more than a matter of opinion," I said, rubbing my neck.

"What if I promise to be good?"

I had little choice. "Move over," I commanded.

Sam was right, there was enough room for two people...but it didn't leave any space between the bodies.

"You're cold and clammy," he complained.

"Tough," I responded good-naturedly. Abruptly, I was angry with myself. Here we hadn't been in the same time in six years and I was complaining about needing more space? If I felt like that, I might as well have stayed a hologram. For all the times Sam needed a shoulder to cry on and I couldn't be there, all the times I wanted to give him a hug...

I propped myself on an elbow and looked at him. "I meant what I said, you know."

"What?" he asked.

"That I'm having a great time."

"Shows how desperate you are," he quipped. "I guess with having to be near the Project, this is the first in a long time you've had a real vacation."

I felt a mush attack coming on. But Sam needed it. "That has nothing to do with it. It's because I'm with you."

What I could see of his eyes in the faint light showed me they were bright. All those times came back to me, when I had to watch, helpless, unable to reach out.

Well, I could reach out now.

His whispered, hesitant, 'hold me', and my gruff 'c'mere', overlapped. Then he was in my arms and settled against me like a little puppy. He sighed contentedly as I brushed back the damp hair from his forehead.

"This is for all those times I couldn't be there for you." I placed a light kiss on his forehead.

Soon, we both drifted off into a pleasant dreamland.

XXX

I should have known it was a mistake. I'm not the most still sleeper in the world, I tend to move around whether I have the space or not.

I woke up abruptly, lying quietly until I could orient myself. Birds were singing outside and the smells of several breakfasts cooking over fires set my stomach grumbling. I was in the sleeping bag with Sam, right where I'd been last night. Except for one small problem...

One of my hands was resting on the bulge of his crotch.

I froze, not daring to move or even breath. This was more than embarrassing, it was...I didn't know what else it was, but I couldn't bring myself to try and do anything about it. This was silly, it wasn't like I was afraid my hand had a mind of its own and wouldn't respond the way I wanted it to...

Then I realized Sam was awake too. And undoubtedly knew I was. There we were, both awake and afraid to move, me with my hand in his crotch.

I thought I felt something move...it galvanized me into action. I snatched my hand away, sitting up quickly. "Sorry, Sam. Didn't mean to get fresh with you," I said with a nervous laugh.

"It's all right," he said quietly.

"What's for breakfast anyway, I'm starving?!"

"Yeah, I heard your stomach grumbling," he told me, unzipping the sleeping bag. "I'll get the food out of the cooler, you get the fire started." He left the tent.

We were awkward around each other. Which wasn't supposed to be, as close as we were. To let a little mishap like that make us uncomfortable was crazy. Maybe it was the period of adjustment Beeks had warned of. In many ways, neither of us were the men we'd been before Sam started leaping. I'd been with him as a hologram for all of that time, but maybe it wasn't enough. It was like getting to know each other over again.

It made me feel sad, but I didn't know why. I resolved to have a long talk with him before the weekend was out.

XXX

By the time breakfast was a mere memory, it was already getting too hot for comfort. We were discussing whether we should go fishing first, or take a swim, when I noticed a lone woman in the site across the road from us.

Actually, I noticed when she first pulled in, during breakfast. Now she was trying to put a tent up by herself, cursing in annoyance.

"Sam, look," I gestured toward her.

He glanced at her, then back at me. "I know that look."

"Hey, she happens to be in need of assistance."

He shook his head, smiling slightly. "So go and 'help' her, nice guy. I'll go dig for worms or something."

"I'm insulted that you doubt my sincerity. This is a male bonding weekend, remember? I just want to be neighborly." I really did mean it. No woman was worth spoiling this weekend for Sam.

He stood up abruptly. "Whatever, Al. I'll be here getting things together, then."

XXX

I don't know how I found Sam, just luck I guess. He was in a remote part of the park, sitting on an old abandoned row boat. He was staring off across the lake with a faraway look in his eyes. I couldn't help wondering what secrets were locked inside his mind.

"Hey pal, where ya been?" I asked amiably, sitting down on the other end of the boat.

"Here," he answered. "I didn't want to...cramp your style," he told me with a smile.

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me, she's married?"

"Actually, she's here with her girlfriend."

He pointed a warning finger at me. "Don't even think about it. I'm a married man."

"They're a 'couple'," I told Sam meaningfully.

After staring at me for a moment, he laughed amusedly.

I let the comfortable silence linger awhile, studying my friend. He didn't seem depressed, but he was distracted. I decided the best way to handle it would be to let the conversation flow and lead me into greater understanding.

"So why were you hiding out here?" I asked.

"I wasn't hiding. I just wanted a quiet place to think."

"I don't know how I managed to find you so fast."

"I do."

"I mean you were--huh? How?"

Sam continued to peel paint off the old boat, looking up at me through his lashes. "Because of the link during Quantum Leaping for all those years. Not to mention the simo-leaping and...and you always did know me inside out anyway."

"Not all the time," I pointed out. "Like right now, I have no idea what's going on inside that noggin' of yours."

He smiled at the familiar phrase, as I'd hoped he would. Then he met my eyes knowingly. "Just...thinking about a lot of things."

"Anything you wanna share?"

Sam gave me a strange smile. "Yeah, I think so. But not right now."

I nodded in understanding. "Well, just remember, I'm here."

Sam reached out a finger to trail down my arm. "Yeah, you are."

"But you still like to remind yourself of that fact." It wasn't really a question, but that was okay, since I don't really know why I said it.

He nodded.

I got up and moved to sit beside him, making sure our bodies were touching. I draped an arm around his shoulder. "Me, too." More than he would ever know.

He leaned into me causally. "Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I'm afraid that it's all just a dream."

Ah, now we were getting somewhere. "Good thing you have Donna there to convince you otherwise," I grinned suggestively.

He didn't respond.

I squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. "But you know what? I know exactly how you feel." Upon seeing me for the first time during a day, he always made sure he immediately found an excuse to make sure I was solid. Sometimes he didn't even bother with excuses. I didn't mind, if he hadn't, I would have.

"We have a lot to make up for..." Sam murmured, low.

"That's okay, cause time's on our side for a change."

"Time's never on anyone's side," he mused. "Leaping taught me that much. You never know how much of it you're going to get...so you try to make the most of what you've got, while you still have time."

The discussion was taking a turn toward the down side and I didn't want that happening, so I decided to gently sway it. "Long as you're spending the time enjoying, rather than worrying about endings. I was thankful for every moment we had while you were leaping. Even the times I was...jealous."

It got the desired reaction. His gaze was riveted on me, forgetting all about his beef with time. "Why?"

"Of all those other people getting to spend time, share their lives with you. And all we had time to do more often than not was discuss the leap."

"You were the only one who knew the real me," he said encouragingly. "You...that meant...means everything to me."

"I know." And I did, far more than he himself understood. While it was true I was missing out on many parts of friendship, I was also forging a bond the depth of which was yet to be fully revealed. What happened now that he was home where everyone knew him? Now that it was unnecessary, would it fade over time? Or would it remain where it wasn't needed and shouldn't be? In plain terms, where once Sam needed me for his very survival, he now only needed me as a friend.

Or maybe, like he'd said, the bond was a scientific after-effect of the experiment, a permanent one. And what did that mean, exactly? I wondered if those were some of the many thoughts he was pondering these days.

I decided we both needed a break from such heavy meandering. "You know what?" I asked.

"What?"

I smacked him on the side of the face playfully. "Too much thinking makes you go blind."

Sam laughed. "Oh, so that's why you have 20/20 vision!" he joked, hugging me.

As we broke apart, I heard someone approaching. I turned to see my friend from earlier and someone I assumed was her 'friend'.

"Oh, hi," she said. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything. We were just looking for the perfect place for our picnic."

I felt Sam's grin. It was a little embarrassing, they seemed to think they'd interrupted...more than they had. "No, you weren't," I assured her.

She turned to her friend. "Celia, this is Al, the guy I was telling you about that helped me with the tent from hell earlier."

"She's shameless. Always trying to get our of doing any hard work by herself," Celia told us conspiratorially.

"I know exactly what you mean," Sam said with a smile. I would have kicked him, but he was already standing, reaching out a hand to Celia. "I'm Sam."

She shook his hand. "The 'damsel in distress' is my lover, Marge." This one believe in speaking plain, that was obvious. She seemed to like men enough, but I could tell running to one for help wasn't something she'd ever have to do. I wouldn't want to tangle with her in a dark alley...

Marge turned to Celia and a look seemed to pass between them. Celia nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Would the two of you like to join us?" Marge asked. "We have plenty of food, and I'm a great cook."

"Don't forget modest," Celia pointed out with a grin.

"I wish she'd stop doing that," Marge complained. "It makes us sound like the old married couple we are."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Sam said. "It's something to be proud of. And we'd love to join you."

We would? Not that I minded, but then nobody asked me, either. Sam made the decision for me. If they asked how long we'd been together, I'd...I don't know what I'd do. I had a feeling I was out of my element here. From all the leaping, Sam had gotten used to adapting to any situation and making himself at home. Me, having a picnic with two Lesbians was definitely a new experience.

It wasn't such a bad afternoon after all. As a matter of fact, it was very enjoyable. The food was indeed good, and there were a couple of six packs of beer to go with it. Celia turned out to be a folk singer, who played in clubs around the area. She had her guitar and played for us. She was very talented.

I listened to the words of her songs, fascinated despite myself. It was interesting to hear songs entirely from a female perspective, but about a woman, from a woman. To hear how they felt about each other, in that context.

Then she surprised me by pulling into a love song about a man. I had a suspicion it was also written by one. I listened to the words, just as fascinated to hear a man's romantic view of another man. There was something...mysterious, strangely compelling....

Oddly, I was reminded of a magazine I once found in a drawer when I was married to Maxine. It was mild porno, of the gay male variety. Shocked, I confronted Max with the evidence. She asked me if I'd ever fantasized about two women together. As if she had to ask. It should have been answer enough, but I was angry, jealous I guess, in typical macho-male style. Instead of letting the subject drop, I made an inappropriate comment or two. The next thing I knew, she'd sidled up to me and whispered into my ear that in her fantasies, the two men together were me and Sam. Whether it was true or she'd just said it rile me, I didn't find out. We never brought up the subject again.

The song Celia sang was about love and longing, poignant and haunting. She belted it out with much feeling, further puzzling me as to its origins.

"That was beautiful," Sam said when she was finished.

"Yes, it is. It was written by a good friend of mine, Harry Panch, for the man he loved, after his death."

"What happened?" Sam asked, clearly saddened.

"Tony Minerfield died in 1989, of AIDS. Harry was devastated. He'd never told Tony how he felt about him...until it was too late, over his coffin."

"Oh, god..." Sam whispered.

It was definitely time to lighten the mood. I groped desperately, snagging the first thing to come to mind. "Do you know, "Lost Emotions?" I asked into the strained quiet.

Everyone stared at me, still in silence. Embarrassed, I shrugged. "Just wondered..." I muttered mostly to myself.

"From the 'Trouble in Paradise' album, of course I do," Celia said. "There's hardly anyone who doesn't have that one."

"I don't," Sam said, still gaping at me with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

This wasn't coming out the way I'd planned, I realized, probably turning an even darker shade of red than I figured I already was. "I uh--" I turned to Sam to try and explain myself. "It was Max's!" I defended.

There was another moment of silence. He blinked, once. Then he burst out in hysterical laughter. Well I'd wanted to lighten the mood. Just goes to show, be careful what you wish for. As I watched, it got worse. He almost doubled over, holding his stomach.

Now I wasn't just embarrassed, I was starting to get angry at being on the spot. "What the hell's so funny about that?" I snapped. At least they weren't looking at me anymore. Now we were all staring at Sam.

"Did we miss something?" Marge asked hesitantly.

Sam swallowed the rest of his laughter. "No." Smiling sweetly, he slung an arm around my shoulder. "Nothing, sorry."

I glared at him suspiciously. "Then why were you laughing?" I didn't trust him a bit.

"Just picturing you finding it," he said hastily. "Who got custody of the album?" he added abruptly.

"Who do you think?" I asked, scowling at him. Maxine had taken almost everything, whether it had originally been hers or not.

"Max is one of his exes," Sam explained to the women with a Cheshire grin.

There was still something nagging at me about his behavior, but since I couldn't put my finger on it, I had to be content with his excuse.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, although I now had a severe case of paranoia. I was convinced that Marge and Celia were acting differently than they had been, and that Sam's smiles held some secret I wasn't privy to. It didn't help that the two women could read each other's minds and often spoke in half sentences. A look or mere incline of a head substituted for words. The whole thing unnerved me more than I wanted to admit. As much as I enjoyed the company, I was relieved when we decided to call it a day.

We walked back to the camp sites together, Sam and Celia hanging behind and chatting quietly, while Marge pulled me ahead, talking my ear off about her lover's career. Every now and then I glanced back at them, wondering what they found in common to talk about. My conversation consisted of listening to an enthusiastic spiel. I could tell she was proud of Celia, it rang through in the love in her voice.

A thought struck me. "Are you Celia's manager too, by any chance?" I asked.

She gaped at me in surprise. "How'd you guess?"

"Something about the way you're promoting her. It sounds like you've had experience in talking her way into a gig."

"I don't mean to bore you. It's just that it's been such a hard struggle uphill for her, full of disappointment and pain. She overcame her paralyzing fear of public performing and proved she could do it." Marge's voice lowered. "Don't tell her, but I'm so proud of her I could cry. And I do sometimes, while watching her perform."

"You should tell her," I said. "I think it's something she'd like to know."

Marge gazed at me skeptically. "Why should that matter to her?"

"Trust me. When you're proud of someone, you can't tell them often enough. It does wonders for their confidence. Everyone has a touch of insecurity inside, you'd be surprised what a simple sentence can do. You may think, how could my opinion possibly matter to someone like that? But it does. Tell her."

"Maybe I will..." She fell silent, thinking over what I'd said.

The way Marge had talked about Celia reminded me of the days when I was pitching my inventive line of truth/embellishment to anyone who would listen, trying to get funding for Project Quantum Leap. I knew the limitless promise in Sam and was determined others would see it also. Was that really the only reason? No. Most of it was far more simple. I did it because Sam wanted it.

I shook my head. The beer and sun were definitely getting to me.

XXX

The rest of the day passed by quickly. Before I knew it, it was evening. We cooked a hearty meal and attacked it ravenously, then sat in companionable silence and listened to the night sounds.

"Maybe we should've gotten a wilderness site," Sam commented as a bunch of laughing kids went running by towards the bathrooms.

"Next time." The overt reminders of civilization didn't prevent me from relaxing into a mindlessly languid tranquility.

"Yeah," he said flatly.

I reached out and squeezed a nearby leg. "You're trying too hard."

"Huh?"

"If there's anything I've learned in all my years, it's that life isn't perfect."

"Yeah, but I..." Sam fell silent. Finally he spoke again, rising. "I think I'll turn in. I want to get up early tomorrow and go fishing. Good night, Al." He started for the tent.

"Who wrote the rule that says a person has to get up at the crack of dawn to go fishing?" I asked the world in general as I watched Sam crawl inside the tent.

Then another thought occurred to me. My sleeping bag still wasn't dry enough to use. If I wanted a warm place to sleep, my best bet would be to follow him now. Once he fell asleep, a nuclear assault wouldn't budge him. If only we had thought to bring extra blankets, I wouldn't have had any problem. Actually, packing the provisions had been Sam's department. I was amazed at my usually detail-happy scientist being so forgetful. Maybe it was one of the changes we'd be getting used to.

I sighed. Part of me was okay about it, but there was another part, that was facing these unknown things with trepidation. After you've know someone as long as I'd known Sam, major changes can upset your equilibrium.

Not that there weren't changes during the leaping, the most major his total amnesia. We'd had to forge a totally new friendship after that. Then there were his boy scout sensibilities, but that was different. I controlled those. Drumming it into his head for the sake of his marriage. Eventually, as he got more of himself back, he began to veer off from that road and into the Sam I'd known. Now he was combining the old Sam with the new, deciding which parts to keep and which to get rid of.

Was I one of those parts he wanted to get rid of?

Maybe he was so obsessed with making everything perfect this weekend because it was going to be our last and he wanted me to enjoy it. There was a crazy thought. I was going to have to do something about this paranoia I seemed to have picked up.

Well...it really wasn't too far from the truth, in a way. Once he needed me for his very survival. Now he was back home and quite capable of taking care of himself without my help. Beeks had hinted it was one of the things I might need to adjust to. No longer was I the only one who knew and cared for Sam Beckett. He had his life back, of which I was now, rather than all, only a small part.

The future of the Project itself was still uncertain, we had a long road of final reports to coordinate. I'd decided I wouldn't think about my own personal future until a later date. Why worry ahead of time?

The Navy had wanted me to retire long ago and I had to admit, maybe it was time now. The question was, what would I devote my days to after? Even deciding to become a full-time scientist didn't make my decision any easier. I toyed with the idea of looking for some environmental project to get involved with, but somehow, whenever I thought about that prospect, it just seemed my heart wasn't in it. I'd devoted the last thirteen years of my life to Project Quantum Leap. Nothing else had lasted longer, with the exception of my friendship with Sam. I felt a little lost contemplating a new start.

Was that how Sam was feeling? A lot was still in limbo of course, after all the results were in there would be another period of waiting while the government decided how it wanted to proceed with PQL...or if.

Another question floating around in my mind...Sam and I were partners in PQL. Did that, would it extend beyond to something else? We'd never talked about it, and Sam hadn't said anything one way or the other. There were plenty of periods in our friendship since we'd met at MIT that we saw little of each other, for one reason or another. But I'd been at his side constantly now for a lot of years. If that was one of the changes I was going to have to get used to, I had to admit, I didn't like it one bit. I'd miss him too much. I was used to having him around.

I decided that sitting around pondering unknowns was only leaving me feeling like I was hanging around outside of the space capsule again. The question was, did I have a tether line this time? If so, where did it lead?

I shook off the encroaching depression and went over to the tent. Sam was asleep, great. This wasn't going to be easy. The cool night air lapped at my skin as I quickly kicked off my shoes and stripped down to my underwear. I unzipped the bag and began the task of trying to slip inside. Sam was hogging the whole thing, making it a chore. I shoved him away some and inched inside, cringing when our bodies slid against each other all the way down.

"Are you trying to get fresh with me, Al?" a sleepily amused voice inquired.

"I won't put my hand in your crotch again, promise," I assured him.

"I told you I didn't mind...I liked it."

The last was said so quietly, I almost missed it. Then when it finally registered, I lay there trying to figure out whether he was joking or not. Which was crazy, of course he was joking. Wasn't he?

"Sam?" I questioned quietly.

The longer the silence went on, the more I knew it hadn't been a joke.

"What's going on?" I finally pressed.

Sam sighed. A tentative hand reached out to rest lightly on my shoulder, close to my neck. "I...I'd like to know what it feels like to kiss you...just once."

I stared open-mouthed. My brain, having not been swift all weekend, was totally useless now. I had to say something...

He continued when I didn't respond. "I might not have said anything without knowing certain things."

"What things?" I was finally able to ask, puzzled.

"The way you've been responding this weekend," he said.

Once again, I couldn't speak. The way I'd been? What had I done to encourage...this? I felt like I'd just leaped into the middle of something, disoriented, and having no idea what was going on.

I shook my head to clear it, trying to focus on Sam. I had to stop thinking of myself and start concentrating on him. He obviously needed me. "What about Donna?" I asked quietly.

Sam turned his head away. "Donna and I aren't together anymore."

"Huh?" I stammered in shock. I'd had no idea. "Since when?"

"Since a week after I leaped home. It really started way before this. We just...had differences that couldn't be fixed. It's over."

I absorbed the information silently.

"You never answered my question. Will you kiss me?"

The soft voice made me shiver. He was using that tone I never could say no to. Before I was quite aware of what I was going, I leaned forward.

Wonderfully soft lips closed on mind and the world stopped. I heard a low whimper when our lips parted, realized it had come form my own throat. Just one? God, how could I survive on only one brief touch of those lips?

True to his word, he moved away. And I was a mess. From one semi- chaste kiss came all sorts of possibilities I suddenly yearned to explore. I closed my eyes. I wanted him so bad, but I was frozen, mute. Everything has happening too fast--too slow.

His other hand came up to join its mate, running up and down my arms. "You're shaking," he murmured.

Sam Beckett was...had been trying to seduce me all weekend. Al Calavicci was lying there acting like a scared little...virgin. What's wrong with his picture? My pride bristled just enough to give me the needed courage. I slid my arms around him and drew him closer, reveling in the glorious feel of our bodies meeting. "Are you real sure about this?" I asked.

Sam gulped and nodded. "I need you, Al," he whispered in a voice that left no room for doubt.

Satisfied that I wasn't the only one who was a little nervous, I closed in for a deep kiss.

It hit with the force of a sudden hurricane. Reality exploded in a haze of passion as we communicated our feelings desperately through our mouths. We rocked against each other, pressing our lower halves together and I almost cried out at the emotions swamping me.

"Oh God Al, you feel so good..."

So did he, but I couldn't form a coherent thought to tell him so. Instead, I let my hands do the talking. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew we should talk this over first, discuss what was happening between us. But the thought fled almost as soon as it formed. The most important thing at the moment was that I feel his skin beneath my questing fingertips.

Sam was trying to pull my undershirt up over my head, so I gave him a hand. Together, we got it off and tossed it into the corner. The only thing between us now was both sets of briefs. I dared reach out to cup the growing bulge of his crotch. He moaned breathlessly, pushing against me hand. It felt hot to the touch, even with the layer of cloth covering it. Warm and alive under my fingers. It was as if I was touching a living creature. I rubbed gently, eliciting more noises from Sam.

"Al..." In retaliation, I guess, he grabbed for the waistband of my briefs and slipped his fingers inside. It felt like he had a dozen hands, roaming all of my body at once. The underwear slid easily down my thighs, releasing my erection. I pressed closer to his body, longing for the feel of him against it.

Listening to the sounds of his desire, knowing I was causing them, was a huge turn on. In its own way, it was as inflaming as the touches. I wanted to hear more, cause more. Hear his voice calling my name in painful need.

I reached inside his briefs to cup his beautiful ass in my hands. With a sharp intake of breath, he made a desperate grab, yanking them down.

The minute his cock was free, I pulled him into me. Our erections finally met and I almost came right then. He was still whimpering, straining to keep his voice low. I wondered how he would have sounded had we been totally alone. A sudden wicked thought flashed through my mind. How noisy could I get him? I decided to test my power.

My tongue teased his nipples in turn and soon I had him at my mercy, squirming in pleasure. His hands never stopped roaming my body, but I wasn't allowing much more. Mine, still on his ass, squeezed to the rhythm our pelvises had established.

I found knowing him as I did extended to this act as well, I could tell when he was on the verge of orgasm. I increased the pace, all senses in tune with his body.

Then, when I knew we were mere moments away, my finger sought the entrance to his body. His cry was louder as I matched my fingers rhythm to our thrusting, burying it deeper within his sweet body. The shock of pleasure froze him for an endless second, gathering momentum for the explosion. I noted his scream in satisfaction, before the feelings assaulting me triggered my own release.

As we lay in the darkness trying to remember how to breath normally, I wondered what would happen next, in the awkward post-coital time. But as I listened to his breathing calm down, he snuggled his sweat-soaked face into my neck and sighed contentedly. A rush of love for him overwhelmed me. I didn't want to think about the consequences, or waste time talking. I settled myself more comfortably and place my mouth close to his ear.

"I love you, Sam," I whispered into the ear, then kissed it tenderly. I lay my head down beside him and closed my eyes. And drifted off happily.

XXX

The first thing I knew was birds chirping away at each other. And a warm presence pressed close against me. I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time, and lay there for awhile basking in the glow. Once again, I could tell by Sam's breathing that he was awake. I wondered if there would be embarrassment today. I certainly didn't know quite what to say.

As I thought over possible opening lines, a tentative hand moved closer, fingers slipping into mine with something which could have been shyness. I smiled as our fingers laced together.

I finally came up with a plausible way to break the silence. "Good morning," I said quietly.

"The best," Sam agreed, turning his head to place a kiss on my neck.

That warmth flooded me again, but it was immediately replaced with a jolt of realization. The consequences of what we'd done were something I wasn't sure I wanted to contemplate. A feeling of unreality stole over me, tensing my muscles. I knew Sam felt it and I didn't want to hurt him, but...

"Are you telling me that out of any number of gorgeous, young women you could choose from, you want me?" I hadn't meant to stress the young part, had I? Sam did have a habit of making me feel either decades younger than I was, or decades older. I didn't think I ever felt exactly my age.

"We're a part of each other now, Al," he began in a soft, caressing voice. "How could I ever love anyone else as much as you?"

The logic, as well as the pleading underlying his words were too much for me to withstand. He was right. We belonged to each other. Simple.

Sam continued, speaking quietly but with raw emotion in his voice. "After yesterday, I...had to tell you how I feel. I need to be with you, Al. Please..."

"Shh...don't." I swallowed the lump in my throat and brushed the tears that glistened on his cheeks away quickly with loving fingertips. "The only place on earth I want to be is with you, Sam. Always."

I learned a long time ago that when a good thing happened along you didn't worry about tomorrow, you enjoyed each day as it came, thankful for whatever time you had. From his leaping, Sam was also no stranger to living for the moment. Maybe, we could try and make each other happy, for however long time decided to give us.

I decided not to waste any of it, or any of the remaining weekend. I shifted in our embrace, pulling him closer. "Wanna hear something corny, love?" I asked, eyes sparkling to let him know how I felt.

Sam smile was brighter than the sun. "What?"

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life." I lowered my mouth to his, eager to get started.

_...I woke up this morning with you wrapped inside my arms Last night the tent got cold so we just snuggled to keep warm I must admit that you had started feelin' pretty good And I was feelin' you a little better than I should._

“Lost Emotions” and “Must've Been Drunk” by Romanovsky and Phillips, from the wonderful album, “Trouble in Paradise.”

**the end**

c. 5/31/92


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